If I Could Turn Back Time
by LFB72
Summary: "If you knew something bad was going to happen, wouldn't you try and stop it?" Merlin makes a final attempt to save his king. Now expanded into a three part story.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.**

**This little story is based on an idea I had a long time ago - before I even wrote any Merlin fan fiction. I got inspired to revisit it after reading a piece from the wonderful April29Roses - thank you.**

**I would like to thank Caldera32, who once again was my beta. She also created the fantastic cover art.**

**I hope you enjoy this, thoughts and comments are always appreciated.**

* * *

Chapter 1 If I Could Turn Back Time

Everything looked different in the moonlight; the shadows made things that were safe and familiar seem strange and sinister. It was ridiculous; Arthur was a grown man - a king - he'd not been plagued with such insecurities for years. Yet here he was, wide awake hours from dawn, noting every detail of the ornate bedchamber that had been his for as long as he could remember. He wondered if it would be the last night he'd spend in this room. He tried to banish such thoughts and instead listened to the even breathing of his wife, envying her ability to sleep when his mind refused him the same courtesy.

Tomorrow he would ride for Camlann and he was under no delusions regarding what they would be facing. The odds were against Camelot; Morgana had sorcery and an army of Saxons at her disposal. He may have the bravest and most skilled soldiers in all the five kingdoms but what use was courage, the knight's code, and honour against an enemy that had no morals and would stop at nothing?

Arthur had no choice; he had to ride out and meet the threat head on, could not afford to wait for the witch to descend on his kingdom. He needed to protect those unable to defend themselves. Commoners, families, and farmers were not taught to take arms nor should they be. A king must do everything to save his people.

Merlin was a commoner. He was loyal above and beyond what was expected yet when his servant (a man with no military training) had refused to go with him into battle, Arthur had been shocked and disappointed. Merlin had always been there without question, so what right did a knight have to infer the man was weak after everything they had been through in the past? Arthur needed Merlin more than he wanted to admit, craved his counsel and company, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

He'd lashed out in hurt and fear and wrenched apart a bond that had once been so strong - that he'd thought was unbreakable. How the royal felt that loss now. He desperately wanted to take those words back and would reverse the sands of time if he could. What if he never saw Merlin again? He'd effectively called his closest friend a coward when it wasn't true. He needed to put things right.

Arthur stilled; the hairs on his skin prickled and his throat became dry. He listened intently, holding his breath – there was an intruder. The monarch had been so consumed in his own thoughts he'd not registered the presence of a third party until now. Lying on his left side, facing away from the door and window, he couldn't see and daren't move. Had Morgana sent an assassin? Would she be so underhanded as to try and finish the job before he even reached the battlefield?

Reaching under the pillow, his fingers curled around the hilt of a dagger he always kept there. He held his breath, focusing on the location of the other man, then sprang up, twisting his torso to launch the blade in the direction of the figure. Too late did he recognise the gangly form.

"MERLIN!"

The dagger shot through the air. A flash of silver flew past the wide-eyed servant and imbedded itself in the wood of the wardrobe with a small thud.

Arthur swallowed, studying the vibrating hilt of his weapon, thanking the gods he had impaled the furniture and not his friend.

"You can see me!"

"Of course I can bloody see you. What the hell are you doing standing by my window in the middle of the night?"

"I… I..." The usually talkative man fumbled to find words, his gaze never leaving the king.

"What is so important? What couldn't wait until the morning?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin just stared back, silent.

"Merlin?"

On getting no response, Arthur calmed and became unusually perceptive. "Is this about what I said? About you not being in Camlann? Because -"

"You ride for Camlann tomorrow?"

For a moment the royal just stared, incredulous. "Merlin, we discussed this – you told me you wouldn't come -"

"I'll be there."

The king's mouth fell open, then the corner of his lip quirked. "You will?"

The servant nodded slowly, picking at his cuticles before looking up. "I won't be in time, but I'll be there."

"You won't be riding out with me?"

Merlin shook his head.

"I don't understand."

"There's something I must do first..." Merlin brought his hand to his face.

There was an awkward silence, then the servant spoke with such urgency it made the royal jump.

"Don't go, Arthur. Don't go to Camlann; stay here." Merlin pleaded.

The king's face darkened at the sudden request.

"You know I can't do that." He snapped, running his hand through his hair. "I thought you knew me, Merlin – better than myself sometimes. I can't ask my knights to risk their lives whilst I cower in the castle. The battle maybe unwinnable but I have to try - "

The dark-haired man interrupted, desperate to make the royal understand. "You're wrong; Camelot will win. Morgana will be defeated and the Saxons will retreat."

Arthur hesitated, this was the Merlin he knew - the man with endless optimism. For a moment he'd thought Merlin had been replaced by an imposter; the man standing before him looked the same but his eyes were dead.

The joyous words did not match the flat delivery. The servant's shoulders were slumped and he gave a sad smile. "Please don't go, Arthur."

The royal clenched his fist in exasperation. "You've just told me we'll be victorious."

Merlin nodded vigorously. "Yes, Camelot will succeed… but..." He bit his lip.

"But what? You think I don't know the danger? I've had a price on my head since the day I was born; I had no choice about being a royal - a Pendragon - but I'm proud of the kingdom I've created. What would you have me do, Merlin?" Arthur made wild gestures with his arms. "Shall I hide? Deny who I am just because there are those who would see me dead? I will always fight for what I believe in."

"This is different."

"No. Every time I draw my sword, it could be the last."

"Camelot is nothing without her king."

"That's not true; you forget I don't rule alone and if I fall, Guinevere will be a fair and just queen."

"Yes."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief but Merlin had not finished.

"An honourable and strong queen... but not a happy one."

The king slammed his hand into the mattress. "Damn it, Merlin; I've never been afraid to die!"

"Well you should be!"

It was frightening what a formidable opponent he could be; Arthur had never seen Merlin so worked up. He was shouting now, moisture reflecting off his cheeks.

"He won't be reasoned with; he won't stop, Arthur. Even after the battle is lost, Mordred will come after you – he wants revenge."

"Mordred?"

"Yes Mordred. It was him all along and now he's sided with the witch."

"Merlin," Arthur warned.

"What? You want me to tell you it will be quick and painless? It won't. It will take days. He'll pierce your chainmail on the left side of your abdomen, just beneath your ribs - a fatal wound with an immortal blade. Nothing can be done for an injury like that; there's no way to stem the blood or ease the pain. I won't be able to stop it – nothing will."

"Enough! Merlin, this is not you – you're not thinking straight."

"No, things have never been clearer. Don't you see? I'm trying to warn you!"

"Sit down, Merlin."

"No. Arthur, you have to listen. If you knew something bad was going to happen, wouldn't you try and change it? I never gave up – I will never stop trying to put things right."

The king slowly shook his head.

Merlin dropped his gaze to the floor and his shoulders began to shake.

In pained Arthur to see Merlin like this. He was worried - experienced warriors had been known to lose their nerve before a big conflict, but this was different. This was something else entirely.

"You're not well, Merlin; what you're saying makes no sense. I'll take you to Gaius."

Determined to escort the sick man to the physician, Arthur pushed back the covers, planting his feet on the cold floor. He reached the end of the bed before realising Merlin was gone.

"Merlin?"

The king looked around the bed chamber; there was no sign of the servant.

"Merlin?"

With a thundering heart Arthur pushed back the curtains - nothing. He strode across the room, pulling at the door - it was locked from the inside.

The monarch's hand dropped from the latch as if stung and he slowly backed away. A coil of unease settled in his stomach and he gave an involuntary shiver.

"Arthur?"

He flinched, forcing a smile onto his face before turning towards his wife.

Guinevere squinted, sitting up. "What's the matter; why are you out of bed?"

Glancing around the room again and finding nothing he padded towards his partner, meeting her outstretched arm with his own, then plopped down on the bed, dazed.

Gwen cradled her husband, pulling him back under the covers and into a hug.

"What's wrong?"

Arthur remained silent for a while then finally whispered "Merlin".

The queen sighed. "He knows you did not mean what you said. He'll come around."

"I don't think he will, Guinevere. He was... "

She rubbed his shoulder. "Come, it's late; you need your sleep. Things will seem better in the morning."

Arthur kissed his wife and nodded, even though he did not believe it. He felt comfort from the warmth beside him; slowly, her hold slackened and her breathing evened out. Arthur was in turmoil but it could not prevent exhaustion washing over him. Finally his body let him sleep but his mind continued to race - dreams plagued him with unsettling images.

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the room through open curtains. Arthur awoke with a start; it was much later than he would have liked. There was a knock on the door and for a moment he hoped it was Merlin even though he knew it wouldn't be.

A nondescript servant hesitantly entered, leaving a breakfast tray before silently departing – nothing like the person who usually delivered his meals. The king reflected on the events of the previous night, everything about it was surreal and hazy to the extent Arthur began to question if it had really occurred at all. However, the dagger protruding from the wardrobe told him it had not been a dream.

There were noises coming from the courtyard and the king scrambled out of bed to investigate. His breath caught when he saw Gwaine and Merlin preparing to depart. _So he really is going through with this?_

Merlin was leaving and Arthur was struck with a sudden urge to bang on the glass and yell. He'd not meant what he'd said. _What if I never see him again? _ If he moved quickly, he might catch them before they left. He ran across the room but ground to a halt before even reaching the door. Snippets of the conversation from the previous night played over in his head:

"_I'll be there. I won't be in time but I'll be there... If you knew something bad was going to happen wouldn't you try and change it? ... Mordred wants revenge... It will be painful, a fatal wound on the left side of your abdomen, just below your ribs."_

Arthur jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Guinevere!"

The king embraced his wife, holding her in a firm hug - longer than strictly necessary. They pulled apart.

"Addressing the people in your bed clothes is not befitting of a king." She teased.

"No. I-"

She grasped his hand. "It's a big day, Arthur. Let me help you get ready for it."

* * *

Merlin clawed at the floor and took a shuddering breath. It would be a few hours before he had the energy to move. A spell of that magnitude would take time to recover from, even for him. It would be days before the pain subsided and the shakes stopped.

His shirt clung to his back and perspiration trickled down his cheek but he did not care. It was the closest he'd ever been to changing things.

The first time he'd managed to go back he'd been forced to watch - a helpless observer - reliving it all again. He'd seen Mordred stab his king and been powerless to stop it. It had taken a few years to get over that.

The second time was almost as bad. He'd arrived too late, materialising in front of Morgana - but she could not see him and he could not interact with the physical world. The witch was demented, screaming for Arthur to be found and for his death. The warlock would have killed her there and then if he could - it would not have saved his king but perhaps Gwaine would have lived. Seconds before he was driven back to the present, the murderess seemed to sense him.

Although shaken by the encounter, it had given him hope - perhaps there was a way to change things. He'd dedicated all his time to research and experimentation, though he never touched the dark arts no matter how tempting.

On previous occasions the spell had used so much energy that once in the past he could no longer access his magic or influence physical matter. This time he'd had no idea when he'd arrived, only that Arthur was still alive and sleeping. It had been enough just to watch the steady rise and fall of the king's chest. To his surprise, the royal had sensed his presence, seen and spoken to him. Merlin had not even been corporeal – imagine the irony if Arthur's dagger had pierced his heart rather than passing straight through? Not that it mattered, he wouldn't have died, but it would have been difficult to explain. Injuries, hurt, and pain he can experience, but death is too good for him.

The warlock tried not to be bitter. There was relief at finally seeing Arthur again and now he had new words and images to remember. Things were already a little different but it was foolish to think he could have changed the king's mind, to think he could have altered anything significant. He was not wistful; he was weary, old, and desperate. He'd waited centuries; endured wars, famines, and all manner of natural disasters but the Once and Future King had failed to return.

Time travel was difficult, even he did not understand all the complexities. He knew that one could not continue to exist in the past with definite knowledge of the future but what about two versions of the same person? Would they cancel each other out completely and cease to be or would only one survive? What would have happened if he'd seen his past self rather than Arthur?

This was why altering time was forbidden. If he succeeded, there would be a price to pay - but wasn't fifteen hundred years alone penance enough? What more could be taken? He was already stripped bare, a shadow of his former self. Destiny had promised much and not delivered. Was it so wrong to seek to change things after all these years? Had he not always been faithful and true, striven to do the right thing, been patient beyond endurance? His reward for this long service had been to lose his king and all hope - not anymore.

Merlin rolled onto his back, losing his vision. He would dream now, vividly, like being there all over again. That was alright, because when it was over he would just go back and start again. Fine tune the spell, collect the many reagents, and wait. No matter how long it took, he would keep trying until he was successful – Emrys was, after all, the one person who had all the time in the world.

* * *

"Merlin? Where have you been?"

The warlock looked at the ashen face of the fallen king. He grasped his friend's hand, pressing it into his cheek.

"It doesn't matter now."

Arthur winced, throwing his head back. "My side."

The servant glanced at the hole in the chainmail. "You're... wait, there's no blood." He heard himself say.

This was new. The scene had never changed before; everything always remained the same - like reading from a script. He wasn't dreaming, the air smelt of the earth, copper, and death. He could feel the breeze on his face, damp seep into his clothes and the prickle of magic under his skin. This was real, but where was his other self? What happened now? Was the outcome the same and only the detail different - what was the point in that?

A sharp grunt brought him back to reality with a jolt - Arthur was hurt.

"You're injured."

"Really, Merlin? I thought it was something I ate." He hissed in pain and clenched his teeth. "Help me out of this armour. I can barely breathe."

Merlin's hands trembled as he undid the buckles and pulled away chainmail. He'd never seen the open wound made by Mordred's sword. It would have caused Arthur too much distress and served no purpose.

Taking a big breath, Merlin tried to prepare for what would greet him; there should be a lot of blood but the blade's incision would be small, belying the damage wrought to the organs below. Tentatively he undid the ties of the doublet. Instead of the king's flesh there was an additional square of metal secured with a strap; it was dented in the center. _What? _Merlin could see the king's chest heaving against the strap and hastily cut through the restraint to release the iron plate.

Arthur's torso was mottled red and purple. A large haematoma extended from his tenth rib to the crest of his hip but there was no break in the skin. Merlin's fingers ghosted over every inch of the king's flesh, palpating muscle and bone, assessing the damage.

Arthur grunted in pain and sweat formed on his brow.

"Fractured ribs." Merlin managed to say, smiling as moisture built up in the corners of his eyes. "Just fractured ribs and some bruising."

"Is that all? I thought it was serious." Arthur clutched at his side.

"It is, but not fatal... Arthur, you're going to live."

Merlin threw back his head and looked to the sky. Can this be? He let out a hysterical cry and picked up the small square of metal, shaking his head.

"How?"

"I do listen sometimes. Besides, I married a blacksmith's daughter – it has its advantages."

Merlin nodded, relief flooding his features. "Yes, it certainly does... Arthur, do you know what this means? You… we ... the prophecy has been defied!"

The knight grasped the servant's wrist, his breath hitched but the grip tightened. "How did you know, Merlin?" Despite the king's frail appearance his grasp was strong. "Answer me. That's twice you've disturbed my sleep and saved my life. How is that possible?"

The warlock looked at all the confusion and fear that clouded his king's face. It would be hard but Arthur deserved the truth. After all these years Merlin could give him that.

Wanting to tell Arthur and having his mouth cooperate were two different things. The words just got stuck in his throat. Merlin coughed, shaking his head and causing some discomfort and dizziness. He ignored it, determined to do this right.

Before the words fell from his lips a searing pain exploded inside his skull. Instinctively his hands pressed into his temples, trying to stop his head shattering. He dropped to the ground, writhing in agony.

_Changing time is forbidden; there is always a price..._ _One can't exist in the past with knowledge of the future… Would two versions of the same person cancel each other out?_

"Go on, take me - my life for his, a servant for a king - that's fair." He ground out.

It had taken fifteen hundred years to finally do what destiny had told him to – protect the Once and Future King. He had lived long enough and could let go now, knowing that Arthur lived.

He thought he heard his name being shouted and tried to open his eyes to look on his friend one final time. There was a roaring in his ears but he had to tell the truth before it was too late.

"I have magic, Arthur. I used it to save you. I'm sorry... but you had to live…"

Enveloped in a blinding light, he knew no more.

* * *

"Merlin?"

"Am I dead?"

Gaius chuckled, wiping a stray lock of hair from his ward's clammy forehead. "No, my boy, you are very much alive."

"It feels like I should be dead."

"Well, that was some very powerful magic you performed. I'm not surprised you're exhausted. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Sending Aithusa away. Finding Arthur - ARTHUR!" Merlin tried to sit up.

"The king is resting -"

"The wound, his chainmail was pierced - I was too late -"

Gaius grasped Merlin's shoulders. "Calm down. There was no incision, Merlin. Fractured ribs and contusions but the skin was not broken."

"He'll live?"

"Yes. It will take some time to heal but he should make a full recovery."

"Mordred, Morgana?"

"Mordred is dead - at Arthur's hand." Gaius shrugged. "Morgana is out there somewhere but she failed and her army is defeated. The Saxons have deserted and fled for the hills but Leon sent two hundred men after them to make sure."

Merlin flopped back against the pillows. "We did it, Gaius: prevented the prophecy."

"You did it, Merlin. The fate of a kingdom rested on your shoulders and you saved us - we owe you a great debt." The physician rubbed his hand, then paused. "You really don't remember, do you?"

The servant shook his head.

"Arthur wants to talk. You told him something just before you passed out."

"I did?"

The old man nodded.

Merlin paled. "What...what did I say?"

Gaius squeezed his shoulder. "It can wait. The king's been informed that you are in no fit state for questions. Rest now, my boy - you deserve it."

Rest he did. He was so tired, as if he'd lived for centuries rather than just twenty-eight summers. For the first time in months he would sleep deeply and in peace. Ever since he'd heard of Arthur's bane and seen the vision of Mordred killing the king he'd had a constant ache in his heart and been driven to do all in his power to prevent it. Now that pain was gone, the future was not set and anything seemed possible. Maybe the time for keeping secrets was over - the thought of telling Arthur about his gift no longer seemed so daunting. Perhaps Camelot's golden age had truly begun and Albion would exist after all.

TBC

* * *

**So, What do you think?**

**My fix it fic - because I still feel bitter about how they ended the series!**

**AU, Seemingly, quite a few of you are asking for a sequel / second chapter dealing with Arthur's reaction. This originally was only meant to be a one shot but there could be scope for more - after all there is a mad witch out there with some unfinished business. **

**Now a three part story**

**Ps April's story is called Blood Moon and is very good.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and feedback for 'If I could turn back time.' Lots of you wanted a continuation and to read about Arthur's response – so here you are! **

**Caldera32 once again came up trumps and was a wonderful beta. **

**This is now a three part story. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.**

* * *

Chapter 2 Doubts and Confusion

Nothing made sense anymore. His world had turned on its axis and would never be the same. Every time he closed his eyes he relived the events that had changed things forever:

Outnumbered by enemy soldiers and surrounded on all sides Arthur fought valiantly for his kingdom and his life, but it was all slipping away - he was losing. Suddenly the sky lit up and the advancing army scattered. The king turned to see the sorcerer who had murdered his father brandishing a staff and standing astride the cliffs of Camlann. All hope drained from his heart - it was over.

The old man blasted away Saxons like leaves on the wind, Morgana's dragon took flight at his command and the witch herself was knocked from her perch. Arthur could not believe it possible, had never seen anything like it. Lightning rained down on his enemies with remarkable precision – the onslaught sparing only Camelot soldiers.

The royal could not deny the evidence anymore; magic turned the battle. Without the sorcerer's help Camelot would have been defeated. When it was all over he'd simply disappeared, seeking neither gratitude nor payment –_ why? _

Gaius had insisted the old man never intended to harm Uther and had done everything in his power to save the dying king but his son had never really believed it - until now.

Arthur winced getting up from the chair and had to brace himself against the table. A sheen of sweat formed on his brow and he took a moment to catch his breath. The strapping and arnica balm Gaius had applied to his ribs did little to ease the searing pain. It was as if he'd been stabbed by a blade – only he hadn't. The sword never pierced his skin, despite its owner's best efforts. Looking around the room the royal let out a sigh, taking a moment to appreciate what and whom he'd almost lost. If it weren't for Merlin, he wouldn't be here at all.

"_I have magic, Arthur. I used it to save you. I'm sorry... but you had to live…"_

How could this be? It was ridiculous. If Merlin was a sorcerer he would know - only he'd been fooled before, taken in by those closest to him and then betrayed. Arthur did not want to believe the words but his friend had acted so strangely in the days before the battle and then this - _why would he say something like that?_ The king was still reeling, hounded by images of that day; there was no escape, they even haunted him in daylight hours:

His servant's screams as he crashed to the ground, clutching at his head. Merlin writhing in obvious agony as tears streaked his face and his heels kicked fruitlessly at the earth. It was horrific and Arthur felt nothing but relief when the convulsions stopped - but it wasn't over. _"Take me, a servant for a king, that's fair," _Merlin had begged before being enveloped in a golden light that left behind a limp and lifeless body.

To his shame he'd done nothing at first, told himself his injury stopped him from moving. He'd stared at the sky and tried to process the revelation until he could stand it no longer. Rolling onto his stomach he'd hauled himself through the mud on his elbows, enduring the pain in his side until he'd found a thin wrist and felt for a pulse. The steady strum was enough to allow darkness to claim him.

The next flash of memory was of Gaius looming over him and a sharp pain burning in his chest as it was tightly bound.

Arthur grabbed the physician's arm. "Merlin?"

Misjudging the king's urgency the physician answered with a smile. "Sleeping - he's exhausted."

Arthur looked around, checking they were alone, then pulled the old man closer and whispered. "He's a sorcerer."

Gaius stilled before straightening up and giving the king a hard look that revealed nothing. "What makes you say that, Sire?"

"He told me."

"I see." Gaius seemed resigned.

Arthur sagged as the inevitable truth hit. "You knew?"

The physician did not deny it, instead he grew in stature, lifted his head and addressed the king. "Merlin is a good man – exceptional. You have no idea what he has done for this kingdom or for you."

The old man stared at Arthur for a moment longer, gave a respectful bow and made for the exit. His hand was on the latch when the royal spoke in a whisper.

"He told me he'd used magic to save me, then he collapsed in agony – I thought he was going to die."

The physician turned and spoke solemnly. "Merlin has faced many trials in his short life. Despite appearances he's remarkably resilient and has an uncanny ability to survive whatever is thrown at him."

There was an awkward silence.

"I never knew."

The physician sighed. "That was partly my doing, Sire; I counselled him against it for his own safety. Merlin only kept secrets out of necessity. We live in difficult times; suspicion and intolerance prevail and I thought he deserved the chance to live."

Arthur stared at his hands.

"If that will be all, Sire?"

Arthur nodded.

Gaius gave a measured bow, leaving the king alone with his warring thoughts.

That was only a day ago but it felt like a lifetime. He still had to address his people, rejoice in Camelot's victory, and offer condolences to the families of those who had died making it happen.

Arthur believed he had a good sense of the world and knew right from wrong, but it wasn't that simple. All he'd ever wanted was to create a just and honourable kingdom, protect the weak and strive for equality. Magic was a threat, it was dangerous and it had taken everything from him. Friends, family, and comrades lost to its power; the innocent corrupted and ensnared; its tendrils had even taken hold of his wife. Yet without it, Guinevere would never have been restored, his kingdom would be ruined, and he would have perished on the battlefield. _What if magic had never existed at all? _

Merlin had been his only true friend, the person he'd confided in, who understood him best and challenged his decisions when no one else dared too. The servant had achieved what the best tutors and countless knights had failed to do, given Arthur humility and made a respected king out of an arrogant, spoilt prince. It hurt more than anything that for all the faith Merlin professed to have in him it was not enough to tell the truth.

He was questioning everything now: How long had Merlin been a sorcerer? Why did he choose that path? The thought of the skinny young man possessing any real power seemed ludicrous - but appearances could be deceptive. Perhaps he was just a seer - that would explain how he knew about Mordred. Wasn't it all the same? Was one kind better than another? He had no idea.

Camelots views on magic were well known; it did not make sense for a sorcerer to live in the city. Did the man have a hidden agenda? Was their entire friendship a lie? Arthur did not know what to do or what to say. He felt hollow and he wanted to be whole again but did not know how.

There was only one person who could answer these questions but the king could not bring himself to ask - not yet. He'd buried his head, hidden behind his injury, and was yet to speak to the man he no longer felt he knew. As he stewed in indecision it occurred to Arthur that it wasn't Merlin's bravery he'd been wrong about, it was his own.

* * *

The king sat by the door in his chambers, jumping when it banged open and the queen charged in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I did not expect you to be out of bed."

"Gaius insists I keep upright and move around – doesn't want me to develop a chest infection or suchlike." The king paused, taking in his wife's flustered appearance. "What's the matter, Guinevere?"

"We have a traitor, Arthur. We'll need a trial."

It was like a slap; the words made him recoil. He'd not told his wife, only speaking to Gaius. The reality of a trial seemed too much; Merlin had lied and broken the law but what harm had he actually done other than have magic? Maybe that was enough - his father would have certainly thought so.

"Do you think that's really necessary?"

The queen was incredulous. "Of course it's necessary. We took Eira in, trusted her, and she told Morgana where Gwaine left Merlin. It's a wonder he escaped."

It took a moment for the information to penetrate.

"What? What are you talking about? Why would Morgana go after Merlin?"

Gwen bit her lip and a crease formed between her eyebrows. "She hates him."

The king snorted. "Morgana hates everyone now."

The queen touched her husband's chest with her palm. "No, this is different - she really despises him. It's not the first time she's tried to kill Merlin. She blamed him for all her failed attempts on Camelot."

"That's stupid, he's just a - She what?... When?"

"Years ago she tried to get Merlin to kill you by putting an enchanted serpent in his neck. More recently she used poison - he was lured into the forest and pushed into a ravine."

"Why was I not informed of this?" Arthur barked, completely forgetting his servant's duplicity and only remembering the pale, limping man he'd teased about slinking off to see a girl.

Gwen looked down and her hands twisted the fabric of her dress. "Gaius removed the snake -"

"Well there's a surprise!" Arthur snorted. Who else was keeping things from him?

"And the other incident happened whilst I was…" The queen became agitated.

Arthur's expression softened and he reached for his wife's hand.

"I did not remember at first… then..." She looked up at her husband, beautiful face contorted in anguish, then turned away. "Arthur, I'm so sorry - I was ashamed. He seemed fine, then Mordred betrayed us and Morgana declared war -"

Arthur placed his hand gently under her chin, making her look at him. "It was not your fault, understand? Your mind was not your own."

"The things I did..."

The king embraced his wife. "It's alright, Guinevere. You were enchanted."

Even after she had been freed magic continued to make her suffer and he hated it for that. He rubbed circles into her back, trying to calm her and quell his own anger.

Suddenly she broke free. "We need to act quickly; there is no telling what other secrets Morgana's been told or what she will try and do."

"You're right, Guinevere, but I need to speak to Merlin first."

* * *

Merlin pressed the heels of his hands into his temples and willed the headache to go away. Everything was sore, as if he'd slipped from the cart on the return from Camlann and been trampled by the horses. He could recall nothing of the journey home and had been totally exhausted ever since. His magic had been all over the place but thankfully it was starting to settle now. Still, if it was the only price he had to pay for saving the king he would endure it willingly.

Gaius had assured him it was nothing serious, suggesting it was merely a combination of the return of his gift and the expenditure of such power during the battle. He'd felt fine at the time, it was only after finding Arthur that he had blacked out.

He'd not spoken to the royal since their homecoming and it felt odd - wrong. Arthur was recovering but Merlin needed to see him, had to erase those images of his friend's death - the hole in the king's armour and the feeling he'd failed.

Merlin had tried, he'd climbed out of bed only to crash to his knees and be hauled up by a disgruntled physician. Gaius had watched him closely after that, but eventually he'd been called away to tend to the injured. The warlock felt better now - it was worth another attempt. The thin blanket was discarded as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and waited for the spinning to stop. He stood but the world lurched and his hands gripped at the workbench.

"Merlin!"

The servant looked up just in time to give the king a dazzling smile before crumpling. He'd not ventured any distance and so collapsed back on the cot. He was already coming around by the time Arthur hobbled over.

"You idiot. What were you doing?"

"Coming to check on you."

"On me? You can barely stand!"

Merlin looked pitiful - frail and drawn. Arthur silently cursed the servant for making him care when he was trying not to.

"I'm fine."

It was the wrong thing to say, igniting a barely-controlled ire within the royal.

"How can you just lie so easily?" Arthur spat bitterly. "Or was that something else I was wrong about?"

"I – I was just a bit dizzy." Merlin replied, confused at how harsh the words were. "Arthur?"

The king stared for a moment, sky blue irises burrowing into the other man's soul. "Were you ever going to say anything about Morgana?"

Merlin paled.

"Guinevere told me how my sister went after you."

The servant hesitated, looking down at his hands before answering. "Morgana stole something from me and I had to get it back. She trapped me in a cave but I escaped."

The royal slowly absorbed the information; this wasn't the whole story and that irked him, but there was something else. "This was why you were late?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter now."

A wave of anger tore through the king. "You could have died."

"I didn't."

"That's not the point! Merlin, the night before the battle you urged me not to go. Demanded I should value my life above others and yet you would throw yours away?"

"It wasn't like that."

The blond shook his head. "I don't understand. I thought I knew you, Merlin."

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Then help me, because none of this makes sense."

"You have to live, Arthur. You are The Once and Future king. The things you can achieve and the kingdom you will continue to build - that's what's important."

The royal grabbed his hair in frustration. He wanted to hate Merlin for having magic, but how could he when he said things like that? Could he believe it? How could a sorcerer say such things? Was it all tricks and manipulation as his father would have said?

He observed the man before him and studied his features. He looked tired, old beyond his years, and it went against his knight's code to attack – but he had to know.

"What do you want, Merlin?"

Merlin looked into cold blue eyes. Something wasn't right, but the king's expression gave away nothing.

"I'm just a servant."

"Answer the question."

"I've told you – I want all the fighting to stop – I want peace."

"No. What do_ you _want?" It was almost aggressive.

There was a loud wrap on the door. Leon's voice was urgent.

"Sire?"

Arthur held Merlin's gaze – a predator cornering its prey. "Not now, Leon."

The servant glanced at the door then back to his king. "I don't know what you're asking?"

"For the truth."

He bit his lip and swallowed, trying to loosen his throat that had suddenly gone dry, then whispered. "I want to stop hiding, I want to be accepted, and I want to be me."

Silence.

They stared at each other, neither wanting to turn away first.

The king said nothing, impassive. Merlin was going to qualify his strange answer, lie if he had to, but Arthur did not challenge it and the warlock did not know what to make of that.

Leon's voice was insistent. "Your Highness, the trial is about to begin. The queen is waiting for you in the throne room."

Arthur did not miss the beads of perspiration or the look of fear that passed fleetingly over the servant's face.

He leaned back in his chair upon realising how close he'd been to the other man.

"I have to attend Eira's trail. You may be called as witness - don't go anywhere."

Merlin nodded.

Arthur stood slowly, hand braced against his side. He looked like he was going to say something else but instead headed towards the doorway where Leon was waiting.

Merlin watched the two men depart then flopped down onto the bed and hugged himself. He felt like he'd just confessed to something and didn't know quite what. It had been a strange conversation, like he was being tested, and he did not know if he'd given the right answer or even if there was one.

He'd been so happy when they won the battle but now wondered if he was losing the war. They had achieved so much and come so far, yet a terrible sense of foreboding washed over him.

* * *

The atmosphere in the throne room was sombre but tense. The king and queen sat on their twin thrones, Gwaine stood to the side, and the prisoner was held by two guards in front of the royals.

"Eira of Stowell, you stand accused of treason and of being an informant to the witch Morgana." Stated Arthur calmly.

He glanced at Gwaine but the knight just gave a curt nod and the king continued. "The people of Camelot took you in at a time of need, provided shelter, food, and showed you kindness, and you have betrayed that trust. How do you plead?"

A loud crash and a bright light forced the king to shield his eyes.

The doors slammed and the sounds of the bolts sliding across could be heard. The room was clouded in dust and as it dissipated a lone figure stood in the centre.

"Hello, brother!" Morgana cooed before blasting away the guards that flanked Eira's sides. "Did you forget about me?"

* * *

_TBC_

_Well, what do you think?_

_Final chapter to follow._


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed this story. I really appreciate all the comments - they persuaded me to continue and extend to three chapters instead of just a one shot.**

**Caldrea32 has once again been a fantastic beta and worked her magic over my words. **

**So here is the final instalment and epilogue - I how you enjoy it.**

* * *

Chapter 3: The Lionheart, The Witch, and The Warlock

Gwaine let out a war cry, sprinting in front of the royals and launching himself at the witch. She merely batted him away with a flick of her wrist and a flash of gold. The knight sailed through the air and crashed into a wall, falling to the ground motionless.

"**Gestillan!"**

Arthur reached for his sword but found himself rooted to the spot by invisible bonds. Guinevere likewise fought in vain to move.

"Mistress!" Eira gushed. "You have come to save me?"

Morgana turned toward the blond woman. "I'm afraid not, my dear. He escaped and you got caught." The High Priestess smirked as she clenched her fist.** "Gesweorc, hine beclyppe!"**

Eira squirmed and grasped at her throat. The blond's eyes bulged in terror as she gasped for breath.

"Morgana, Stop!" Arthur's voice was commanding.

"Why? She is a traitor – you would have killed her anyway. I saved you the trouble."

Eira slumped to the floor, dead. Morgana stepped over the corpse as if it were a mere inconvenience and began to pace.

"Where is he?"

Arthur was so shocked by what had just happened he did not register the question.

"Where is he!"

Morgana scanned the room and a look of unease flickered across her face before being replaced by a snarl. "He wouldn't stray far."

"Who?" The royal demanded.

She rounded on the king. "Your lapdog, that meddlesome servant."

"Merlin? He has nothing to do with this."

Morgana snorted, hands on hips. "He has everything to do with this. I foresaw your death at Mordred's hand but he did something to change it. Always interfering... I know it was him!" The woman suddenly switched and a sense of calm fell over her features. She spoke again, gloating. "It matters not; you are going to die, Arthur. You've failed."

The king was stoic. "Let Guinevere go. You were friends once."

"And so we will be again."

"Never. I will never forgive you for what you did," Gwen cried.

Morgana swivelled on her heel and walked slowly toward the queen. She clicked her fingers and Gwen stumbled toward her until the witch raised her hand, forcing the royal to stop. Gwen stood defiant as Morgana circled like a cat but recoiled as soon as the witch brought up a hand to caress her cheek.

"There, there, you may have flown back to your gilded cage but you cannot deny we were good together. Have you forgotten how we laughed at knights and guards? How no one important realised you'd murdered the stable boy, not even your husband."

"That wasn't me."

"Oh, but it was; a part of you. Such a flare for the macabre and you enjoyed it so much. But then you always were very determined and ruthless underneath that pretty facade. How else would a servant become a queen?"

"That's enough!" Arthur snarled.

"What's the matter, brother? Do you not like to hear how your wife killed and plotted behind your back and you were too stupid to see it?

"She was enchanted."

"Morgana, please." Gwen began, trying to plead with the woman that had once been her friend. "Innocent people are being hurt, families and children! You used to care so much for Camelot; what happened?"

The High Priestess let out a high-pitched laugh. "Camelot has systematically hunted and destroyed my kind, burnt women, drowned children – who cared about that?" The witch turned, striding up and down. "All those I foolishly thought cared turned their back and betrayed me - took away the ones I loved."

Morgana stilled and looked up at the ceiling. "Isn't that right, Merlin?"

She blasted away the curtains and a tapestry, knocked over a table and sent a suit of armour crashing to the ground in a rage.

"Where are you? Hiding again? I know you can hear me. I have your king! Come out and face me, Emrys!"

The king and queen exchanged looks. Lady Morgana was gone, replaced by a demented and vengeful witch. Nothing of the person they'd once known remained.

Morgana stood in the centre of the room, hands balled into fists and shoulders braced. She fixed her gaze on her pray and started marching determinedly towards the royal couple.

"Enough games."

When she reached Gwen, she placed the heel of her hand against the queen's forehead.

"**Onslæp nu!"**

The royal let out a cry and slumped to the ground.

"Guinevere!"

Morgana turned towards her brother, smirked and said with mock concern. "Don't worry, she's not dead. When this is over I'm going to need some company and she made such a good pet last time."

"No." Arthur growled as he struggled futilely against the invisible restraints.

Morgana giggled as she watched the fierce knight fight her spell. She bared her teeth at the king. "I think I would prefer you to kneel before you die.** Feall!"**

Arthur was thrown on the floor at Morgana's feet and she began to raise her arms.

"STOP!"

The witch and the king turned simultaneously.

Merlin stood in the centre of the room, but before anyone could react his eyes blinked gold and a wave of immense magic was released.

It hit the witch square in the chest and she was lifted off her feet and hurled through the air, slamming into a wall.

Merlin's left leg buckled, but he was able to retain his balance. He half-staggered, half-ran towards Arthur, toppling onto his knees beside the fallen king.

"**Edniwe." **He whispered without looking up.

Arthur could move again, but his only concern was for his wife. "Guinevere?"

Tentatively, the physician's ward reached out and rolled the queen over. He cradled her head gently and felt for a pulse.

"She's sleeping."

"Is she alright?"

He sat back on his heels and nodded. "I think so."

"Can you... can you help her?"

Merlin looked at the royal with wide eyes. _Did Arthur mean magic? _They stared, blue against blue, and then Arthur gave a curt nod.

It was quiet for a moment before Merlin drew himself up into high kneeling. He held a trembling hand over the queen, closed his eyes and swallowed, preparing to recite a spell openly in front of the king for the first time.

"**Swilte, Merlin!"**

The warlock was blasted backwards against the wall, falling with a sickening crack. Merlin tried to move, pushing his shoulders up only to collapse once more. Morgana advanced, holding a dagger.

Arthur was too far way to do anything. "Merlin!"

The servant shifted, lifting his head. ** "Bebiede þe arisan ealdu. Bebiede þe arisan cwicum."**

Suits of armour came alive and marched towards the witch, weapons drawn. She yelled as they converged upon her, swallowing her up like a spider devouring a fly.

"**Tæfle!"**

Pieces of metal went everywhere as Morgana broke free. She was livid and Merlin bore the brunt of that rage. He had barely staggered to his feet when she yanked him backwards against the hard floor. Not content, she picked up the limp body with magic and slammed him into a chair.

"**Ic þé geháta, searubunden. Gehæftan. Bebiede þe arisan cwicum."**

The wood became a living thing and sent out powerful roots deep into the floor. Branches and tendrils wrapped around the slumped man's limbs, anchoring him to the spot and trapping him in a tree.

"Not so mighty now, are we?" She snarled.

Wiping a smear of blood from the corner of her mouth and smoothing out her skirt, she regained her composure and walked slowly towards the warlock. Reaching through a gap in the foliage she pulled his head up by his hair and lightly bounced her blade against his neck.

Arthur crept silently towards the witch. He was convinced his servant's throat would be cut and he could not let that happen. The point of his sword dug into her shoulder.

"Let him go."

She lifted both her arms in surrender and let the dagger drop. It hit the floor with a clatter, echoing around the silent room.

"Really, Arthur, stabbing a woman in the back is not very honourable - we're family, too."

Arthur hesitated and the sword wavered. _Could he kill his sister?_ Flashes of the girl he'd known growing up and the times they'd played together as children flicked through his mind.

Morgana used the brief pause to her advantage and jerked her head back. **"Hleap on bæc!"**

The knight was flung against a table and pain shot through his damaged ribs. He tried to pick himself up but was rendered stationary again. His heart sank as Morgana carefully picked up the dagger. There was nothing he could do.

She tilted Merlin's head, exposing the tender flesh of his throat. Her hand lingered then moved upwards and sliced off a lock of black hair. Her fingers ran over an open cut on his forehead and she jabbed at the wound so the unconscious man stirred. From within the folds of her dress she produced a corn doll, dabbed the warlock's blood onto it and wrapped his hair around its neck. "**Ontende eallne þæs drycræftes hire sawle!"**

She squeezed the poppet, digging her fingernails into it.

Merlin cried in agony. His eyes flew opened as he jerked awake. Struggling violently against the vines he shouted a spell. **"Snæde!"** It did not work. **"Min strengest miht hate þe tospringan!"** Sparks of gold flickered around his irises then died.

"What have you done?"

"Really, Merlin, to lose your magic once is bad enough but a second time?" She shook her head and tutted. "That's just careless. You really should be more careful with your gift."

Morgana twisted the doll's arm and Merlin screamed, contorting against his restraints.

"Why you?" She said venomously. "Why should a nobody like you be born with such power only to waste it?"

Merlin looked up.

"Oh yes, Mordred told me all about it. How the druids think you're some kind of saviour – how disappointed they'll be to learn of your death. You picked the wrong side, Merlin; you're a traitor to your own kind."

She turned and gestured at the king and queen.

"For what? Do you think they truly care about you? You are just a servant to them."

"I was born to serve Arthur; I don't regret that." Merlin managed to grit out.

"Really?" She let out a harsh laugh. "Then why didn't you tell them who you really are? If you thought Arthur would accept a sorcerer, why appear at Camlann as an old man? Deep down you know they will never respect or understand you. Accused of treason by Gwen and who came to your aid? No one. Left to rot in the cells – that's how much your friends think of you."

He wanted to say it wasn't true, but often the knights and Gwen were too busy to speak to him now. They'd moved on but he'd just stayed a servant. It hurt more than he wanted to admit to play the fool and have everyone believe it.

The warlock flinched and bit his lip. "It doesn't matter."

"You could have helped me, forced Camelot to accept the old ways, but you threw it away for a king that hates magic - hates you. I alone, the last High Priestess, will bring the Old Religion back to the realm. Shame you'll never get to see it."

"I'm not like you, Morgana; you've corrupted what's beautiful and used your gift to dominate others. I only want peace. All you've achieved is death and destruction and now you want to replace one prejudice with another."

"You naive fool, some casualties are necessary in a revolution. Once the new regime is in place, I will be a just and fair queen."

The warlock snorted. "There is nothing of what you were left; your mind is twisted and your heart has become a dark empty chasm."

She slapped his face.

"Don't dare to lecture me. You know nothing of loss - but you will; I'll take everything. Where does your mother live, again? Ealdor, isn't it?"

The warlock grunted and tried to call his magic but it was useless.

"You think you're so superior but we're not so different, both prepared to kill if someone gets in our way." She smiled, and then gestured towards the king. "He doesn't know how many you've slaughtered in his name does he?" She turned to face Arthur. "Merlin here is quite the executioner. He tried to poison me whilst I was still at court, then there's your uncle, oh, and your father. Of course, they're only the ones I know about."

"It's not true. You're making it up." Arthur growled.

Merlin's head was down. The truth had never been so painful.

"Merlin?"

The warlock's shoulders tensed and he lifted his chin. He glanced at Morgana's triumphant face and then at the questioning king. He wanted to explain, make it sound better, but he couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Arthur."

The monarch's face crumpled, blue eyes pleading. "No."

Laughter rang out and Morgana clapped her hands in glee. Merlin looked at the witch and felt anger burn in the pit of his stomach. It did not matter if Arthur hated him, he would not let her take Camelot, he would not let her kill the king.

Solemnly he shook his head, defiant. "You always did underestimate me, Morgana. I'm not just magic, I am a dragonlord." He threw back his head and let out a guttural roar. **"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"**

"I have bound your magic. You're helpless. A dragon couldn't get here in time." The witch did not sound convinced and she looked around in fear before grabbing the poppet and twisting it.

Merlin screamed.

There was a blur of gold and Morgana screeched. A small golden dragon attacked her with its talons. She held up her hands in defence, trying to bat the creature away. It flew up in the air and circled before trying again, this time a jet of flame tore from its jaws engulfing the corn doll - destroying the hold the poppet had over the warlock.

It was then Arthur realised that the red Pendragon banner was empty.

The dragon darted through the air, its sharp eyes focused on Excalibur. It swooped down and clasped the weapon in its claws, flying towards its master. The extra weight made the creature lurch, slowing it down.

Morgana recovered enough to grab a sword and hurl it at the reptile. **"Þurhdrif hie ecg!" **The little creature let out a cry as the metal pieced its chest. It dropped the precious cargo with a clatter and fell to the ground dead.

"You will pay for that," She hissed.

The witch lifted her arms**. "Bæl on bryne!" **A ball of fire shot towards the tree that encased the warlock. She watched in satisfaction as orange flames surrounded her nemesis. She'd won. Emrys was not her doom. Now all that remained was to avenge those she had lost and take the throne for herself.

Turning away from the blaze she walked slowly towards her brother. "How does it feel to lose everything, Arthur?"

The king stared into the hard emerald eyes of his sister, a woman he'd once loved and respected. He wondered where it all went wrong and how she could have turned into this.

"I pity you, Morgana; a life without love is no life at all."

This was not what she wanted. She wanted him broken, begging, but most of all she wanted him dead. Magic boiled deep within her, dark and wretched; she pulled it to the surface, ready to strike.

"Goodbye, Arthur."

"I can't let you do that."

Merlin stood behind the witch holding Excalibur. Soot and blood caked his face, his clothes were torn, but he exuded power.

Her mouth fell open in surprise, then she laughed. "I'm a High Priestess. No mortal blade can kill me."

"Excalibur was forged in a dragon's breath."

He plunged the sword into her stomach. She grabbed at the hilt, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry. I feel responsible for what you have become, but this has to end."

He pushed the blade in further. Tears tracked down his cheeks making channels in the dirt as he lowered her to the floor.

"Emrys." She called, reaching out.

Merlin let go of the sword and grasped her hand. "Was this really what you wanted, Morgana?"

"Emrys, plea -" Her arm flopped down, her breath stilled and her green eyes became fixed then dull - the witch was dead.

He'd always hated taking lives, even when necessary, and this one especially so. Each loss chipped away at his soul; one day there would be nothing left.

Merlin reached over and closed Morgana's eyes. She finally looked peaceful, beautiful once more now bitterness no longer contorted her features.

He collapsed back on his heels and stared blankly ahead, numb. Time seemed to stop and everything was fragmented. He was only vaguely aware of things happening around him, muffled noises and flashes – as if he wasn't really there.

At some point he sensed movement and the sound of Arthur's voice - but far away like he was underwater. He turned to see the king kneeling at his wife's side trying to rouse her. _Gwen. _Merlin's head cleared for a moment and he whispered the spell to revive her **"Ic ácwice þé. Ic þé bebíede þæt þú ne slæpest!" ** He was thankful when she started to move but then was lost again.

Magic flowed through his veins, the only comfort against the darkness and cold. Others had died, been injured, guards... _Gwaine?_ Merlin blinked and searched the room for the knight but his body was gone. The room was all but empty. Arthur must have led Gwen out but he did not recall that happening. He was the only living thing left – alone with two corpses. That realisation seemed to shake Merlin out of the vacant state he'd been in.

He tried to collect his scattered thoughts and dragged himself over to the small golden dragon. He pulled out the sword and laid his hand lovingly on the beast's head.

"When I called for my kin I expected someone bigger." He smiled sadly. "Thank you, little one, but you were never meant for this world and need to go back where you belong."

He waved his hand, eyes burning liquid gold, and the little creature disappeared. He looked up at the plain banner in time to see the Pendragon emblem reappear on the crimson cloth.

He slowly crawled back towards Morgana. Wiping his hand clean, he gently stroked her face and smoothed her hair.

"I'm sorry. I should have done more to help you."

"We all should have."

Merlin jumped as Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. He'd not heard the other man enter the room and had no idea how long he'd been standing there.

"She can be in peace now. Perhaps she will find some comfort in the next life." Arthur's fingers gripped at the bony shoulder beneath his touch.

"Gwaine?" The warlock asked without turning.

"With Gaius."

The silence stretched on and Arthur struggled with the quiet. "Merlin, the things Morgana said -"

"Were true."

Merlin waited for the reaction. There wasn't one. The king just kept his hand were it was. The warlock sighed; his whole body sagged.

"I didn't mean… I tried to do the right thing, but it went wrong… it always goes wrong."

"Always?"

Merlin turned with red-rimmed eyes and looked up at the royal.

"I wanted to tell you… I tried… there was never a good time."

"You did tell me."

The servant's face scrunched up in confusion.

"After the battle… but only as a last resort, when death seemed inevitable."

Merlin pulled at his hair. Why did he not remember? The warlock gripped his skull with his hands. _Am I going mad?_

The blond shook his head. "Did you really think I would have you executed?"

Merlin paused and his arms flopped down to his sides. "At first, maybe. Your father would have certainly chopped my head off." He struggled with what to say next. "Then... I don't know… others betrayed you... we became friends, I was afraid to lose that."

Merlin shrugged and brought the back of his hand up to his cheek. He wished the royal would get angry. He could defend himself in a fight, but this was unbearable. Arthur was strangely reticent and the warlock did not know how to react but he didn't have it in him to pretend anymore.

The royal sighed. "A dragonlord? You didn't tell me that."

The servant flinched. There was no point in even trying to be evasive.

"I'm Balinor's son." He looked up. "I didn't know, not until we went to find him and… well, you know what happened next."

Merlin closed his eyes and saw the image of his father, a man who'd been absent for years, a powerful dragonlord, and whose love had been fleeting but unconditional.

Arthur made no comment on the dark-haired man's demeanor, just gave him a moment then moved on.

"The sorcerer at Camlann - that was you?"

The warlock nodded.

It was quiet for a while, then the monarch finally asked the question that had baffled, intrigued, and scared him all at the same time.

"Who's Emrys?"

Merlin let out a defeated laugh and averted his gaze. He spoke slowly, voice flat. "It's what the druids call me. Supposedly I'm the most powerful magic user ever to walk the earth, destined to protect The Once and Future King and help create Albion... We were to unite the old and the new religions and bring peace and magic back into the land."

It hurt to talk of his destiny and dream now that the possibility of it was gone.

Arthur seemed to pick up on his hopelessness and defeat.

"Don't presume to know my mind, Merlin." The royal snapped, then regretted the tone and spoke softly. "Morgana stole your magic - it's gone?"

Merlin closed his eyes._ This is why Arthur is so calm? He thinks I no longer have magic?_

The warlock shook his head. "She tried. I thought I'd lost it, but it's not possible - not completely."

Frustration boiled over, finally breaking through the apathy. If he was to be condemned, he wanted it over with. "I am magic, Arthur. I was born this way, it's part of me - I can't change."

There was a stunned silence.

"I don't want you to change."

"What?"

"I want you to always be you."

"I don't understand?"

"You saved my life, Merlin, and Camelot - multiple times, and yet you never sought recognition."

"That's not why I do it."

"I know."

The warlock just stared.

"I don't like being lied to, Merlin. I was angry… but I think I understand why you did it and well…"

The king suddenly looked unsure of himself. "Thank you."

Merlin's eyes were wide.

"I've not said it enough for all the things you have done. Merlin, what Morgana said - no, let me finish - she said you were just a servant but you've never been that. You're incredibly brave, loyal to the point of stupidity, and my only true friend."

His sister had played him well, for if he'd somehow survived but lost Merlin he would have been broken. Morgana had taunted and tortured the servant but he had not wavered - he was strong, unbelievably so. To have immense power but never abuse it was a rarity. Merlin had suffered greatly and been forced to make impossible decisions alone, difficult choices that had come at a price but saved lives. Merlin had killed Morgana and brought peace - something Arthur had not been able to do.

Arthur had feared Morgana left a lasting legacy when Merlin did not respond - it was like his father all over again. Unlike Uther, Merlin had come back. Now he had a chance to put things right.

"I made mistakes, Arthur. I've done things -"

"We've all made mistakes, Merlin. No one can turn back time and change things - not even you. We learn to live with them and hope to do better in the future."

The servant paused. "Wise words, Arthur. Spoken like a true king."

"I had a good teacher."

Merlin's mouth quirked. "So you don't think I'm a complete idiot, then?"

"You have your moments."

Arthur grinned and Merlin gave a little chuckle. It seemed an age since they were able to be like this.

"So, what happens now?" The warlock asked seriously.

"I don't know."

Merlin's face fell.

"You told me there was no place for magic in Camelot." Arthur reasoned carefully.

"There isn't... there wasn't - the people wouldn't have accepted it. You couldn't have changed the law based on a threat. It has to be something you want, something you believe in."

The royal nodded. "You're right. You're always right, Merlin."

The warlock ran his tongue over his teeth and looked away. He almost missed it when the king continued.

"Camelot may not be ready for magic - but I am. We shall have Albion, Merlin. We will build it together and it will be as great and prosperous as you said it would. It will take time and you will have to hide a little longer, but not forever and not from me."

The king held out his arm. "Come on, let's get you to Gaius - you look terrible."

"It's been a tough few days."

"Yes, it has."

The warlock grasped the king's hand tightly and the stronger man hauled up his friend. They stumbled, Arthur hissed at the extra strain on his ribs and Merlin wobbled like a drunk. The pair clung to each other and negotiated the debris with difficulty, almost making it to the door when Merlin tripped, sending them both crashing to the ground.

Both men let out groans.

"The most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth yet you can't make it across a room without falling flat on your face?"

"No one's perfect."

"Clearly."

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"You're crushing me!"

The king hastily moved, rolling onto his back and catching his breath. Merlin enjoyed the sweet sensation of air filling his lungs once more. Neither man said anything, both waiting for the pain from their collective injuries to subside. It was Arthur who spoke first.

"There has to be an easier way, I'm not going to make it down two flights of stairs with you."

The warlock tensed and looked pensive. "There is."

Arthur stilled. "Oh."

"I could, you know… if you wanted…"

"I'm never going to get used to this, am I?"

Merlin smiled and held out his hand. "Do you trust me?"

The king swallowed. "Always." He let his fingers curl around Merlin's in a tight grip.

"It won't be easy, but we'll get there."

Both knew they were talking about more than the journey to the physician's quarters.

"I know."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

The Once and Future King braced himself and looked into the deep blue eyes of his friend. Merlin smiled again then whispered the spell.

"**Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!"**

Arthur watched as his friend's irises flooded with gold. His arm began to vibrate and his whole body was engulfed in an incredible heat before his stomach flipped and was sucked through his boots.

For the first time in his life Arthur experienced the true beauty and wonder of magic. Once over the initial nausea of teleportation he decided he could get used to it and perhaps, in time, maybe even get to like it.

* * *

Epilogue:Two sides of the same coin 

Camelot rejoiced in victory and took time to remember the dead.

Merlin did not react well to Gwaine's passing; he blamed himself for failing to save his friend. The warlock had poured all his magic into the fallen knight to no avail. Arthur had pulled him away when his nose began to bleed and his body shook, shouting he was not prepared to lose Merlin too and that nothing could be done for a broken neck.

The king held his friend whilst the skinny man struggled, punched, and kicked; gripped him tightly as windows and vials exploded and eight years of pent up anger and grief gave way to gut-wrenching sobs. He did not let go when Merlin's exhausted body gave out and he fell into a deep sleep. He let tears and muck soak into his shirt and his arm go numb, swearing he would do all he could to prevent his friend suffering again.

Gwaine was buried with honour and many mourned his passing. Merlin spoke at the funeral and disclosed the man's birthright as a noble, what a good friend he'd been and how he'd died as a true knight saving his king.

Privately the warlock remembered the man who had always treated him as an equal when Merlin had failed to tell the truth. He allowed himself a drink that night, knowing it had always been the rugged man's mission to get him to spill his secrets over a jug of mead.

Morgana was given a royal burial but not a public one. She was remembered as the women she had been - kind and compassionate. The king knew many could never forgive her for what she'd done but Arthur did. He asked that his sister rest in peace and find happiness in the next life.

When the king addressed his people to celebrate the kingdom's victory he thanked them for their contribution in saving Camelot and acknowledged the sorcerer who had turned the battle. The figure remained anonymous but Arthur urged the citizens to judge others by their actions and not by heritage or expectation. Over time, rumours grew and spread of a powerful magic that protected the king. Camelot became a force to be respected and an ally to be won.

Merlin gained a reputation as the former servant who had become the royal's closest adviser. Anyone wishing to impress the king of Camelot would have to win Merlin's favour too.

Among other revelations, Arthur discovered the role of magic in his own conception. It took a while for the king to accept that.

The king learned that magic made up the fabric of the earth and without its existence Merlin could not be. The royal concluded the world was a far better place for his friend being in it. He would make sure magic users could be free and were protected. Those who abused their gifts or used them for ill would be severely punished - as would those who attacked or provoked sorcerers.

He knew it would not be easy and there would be backlash on both sides. He could not make up for the atrocities, all he could do was ensure he learned from them and did what he could to ensure a peaceful future.

The Druid leader Iseldir asked for an audience with the king and the meeting forged the beginning of talks between the druids and Camelot which led to a new respect for the community. Magic slowly seeped back into the kingdom.

Two years after Camlann the ban on magic was officially lifted and Merlin was recognised as court sorcerer. The warlock forgave Aithusa and the dragon became a symbol of hope. As predicted, the journey had been difficult at times but Albion was born, the five kingdoms united and a true golden age prevailed.

The royals were never blessed with children and Gwen questioned if the enchantment Morgana had placed on her had left her barren or if it was penance for all the evil she had done during that time. Magic was never an option after Ygraine, but she felt it was a small price to pay for her husband, her friends, and her kingdom.

Arthur lived life to the full. When his time came he welcomed it. His fractured ribs had made him vulnerable to chest infections in later years and ultimately that's what took him. Thus, as was foretold, Arthur died at the hand of Mordred, from an injury sustained at the battle of Camlann.

Merlin outlived everyone but his body eventually failed too, returning to the ground. Merlin was magic and that part of him endured; it seeped into the fabric of the earth, dissipated, and became the sky, the sea, the rocks, and the trees.

Magic waits, deep and dormant, for the spark that heralds the return of The Once and Future King. Then it will rise again, for what is Arthur without Merlin?

THE END

* * *

_Well? What did you think..._

* * *

**Appendix **

_Spells and translations, taken from the Merlin wiki page:_

**O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!** O dragon, now indeed I utter to you commands out of necessity!

**Feall **Fall

**Swilte, Merlin! **Kill Merlin

**Gesweorc, hire beclyppe! ** Darkness, clasp her!

**Ontende eallne þæs drycræftes hine sawle!** Take all the magic of his soul!

**Hleap on bæc! **Leap on your back!

**Bæl on bryne! **On burning fire!

**Tæfle! **Throw [them like] dice!

**Ic ácwice þé. Ic þé bebíede þæt þú ne slæpest!**I revive you. I command you not to sleep.

**Ic hæle þina þrowunga.** I cure your sufferings.

**Þurhdrif hie ecg! **Sword, pierce her!

**Onslæp nu! **Sleep now!

**Edniwe** Restore

**Snæde!** Cut

**Min strengest miht hate þe tospringan! **Make my fierce power strong to open you!

**Ic þé geháta, searubunden **I bound you cunningly.

**Gestillan **Be Still

**Gehæftan** Restrain

**Bebiede þe arisan cwicum** I command you to rise up to life.

**Bebiede þe arisan ealdu **I command you, ancient ones, to come forth.

**Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!** Conceal us! Guide us away from here!


End file.
